As I sat that morning at the train station, waiting for thetthe train that was to arrive Leye from Lokoja, where I'd booked my ticket earlier to return home, after attending a two weeks national youth conference, organized by the Christian youth association which held in a small village in Lokoja, and in which I’d been chosen to represent my church because I was the president of our youth fellowship and also a deacon, I remembered the scene that’d played out the previous night with Sister Susan, the chubby youth secretary of another church, who'd accused me of eating the remaining portion of beans they'd reserved, since we’d camped together and had food prepared by some selected executives, and in which I wasn't part of. I was still in a confused state after the incidence, "what kind of woman is she? I leave her to God." I said tearfully, as if I was speaking to another person. She was so convincing that everyone had believed her claim, as she accused me falsely.
“I saw you go through the back, towards the kitchen, but I didn’t expect that from you." She continued to repeat. It was an awful experience.
She was the same woman that I’d helped to carry her bag on the day we arrived at the camp.
"We’re humans after all, and most importantly you're a Christian," those were the words that Brother Thomas, the only friend I made at the camp had told me, after the disgrace I faced.
“To err is human and to forgive is divine.”
I reminded myself, as I rushed to struggle with the crowd to board the train that'd just arrived.
It was hours later before I reached my destination, and the first person I saw was Chima, the bachelor that lived next to my flat; he was a banker. Although, we went out a couple of times, but we still weren’t close friends, since he never attended church; and I on the other hand was born again.
“Dele, you’re back.” He said immediately he saw me enter the compound. I walked towards my flat in a hurry, with an old fashioned-traveling bag, that hung on the right side of my shoulder, as I ignored him.
“Dele, Dele!" he called, while following me.
“Oh Chima," I finally stopped to answer him when I got to my door step.
“How was your journey? it was exactly four hours from Lokoja by train right?” he asked, trying to start a conversation.
“Yes.” I replied in an uninterested tone, as I slammed the door in his face.
“Omo mi, my child, welcome home. How your journey?” my mother asked as she stood to welcome me, before I prostrated to greet her.